


Any advice at all

by Cellothebandit (melchellington)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Friendship, Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:47:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26500864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melchellington/pseuds/Cellothebandit
Summary: Yasha goes to Caleb for advice about how to talk to a certain monk and he is actually a little helpful. This happens post 109.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett & Caleb Widogast, Beauregard Lionett/Yasha, Caleb Widogast & Yasha, Yasha/Zuala (Critical Role)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 210





	Any advice at all

Yasha finds Caleb sitting alone at a table in the darkest corner of the Chateau’s main hall. A folded letter sits on the table in front of him and he is just starting at it while methodically spinning a diamond in his hand. She takes a few steps toward him then stops, thinks about turning around, but takes a few more steps forward and stops again. She opens her mouth but then shakes her head and turns on her heel.

“Oh Yasha,” the Zemnian accented voice is friendly, inviting and causes her to halt her retreat. “Did you need something?”

She turns back around to face him, “Um, well, if you’re busy, it’s not important.” 

“Oh, you know, just thinking of 100 ways to kill a man, so, not too busy,” he tucks the letter into his coat and gestures toward the seat next to him.

Yasha laughs, “I’m sure I could help you with that list.” 

“Indeed, but I would be grateful for a distraction, what’s on your mind?” Caleb flags down someone to bring them two ales.

Yasha’s smile quickly fades to a more pensive expression. She’s not sure what to ask and avoids making eye contact with Caleb while she thinks of how to begin. Seeing this hesitation, Caleb snaps his fingers. Frumpkin appears on Yasha’s lap and she smiles again as she starts to pet him.

“Life must be so great for a cat.” She scratches Frumpkin’s chin and Caleb makes him purr. “Just need food and water and a warm place to sleep. Well, not Frumpkin, but, you know, regular cats.”

“This is true.”

“Not like people. People need more than that, I suppose.”

“Unfortunately, this is also true.”

The waiter appears with their drinks. Yasha releases Frumpkin and grabs the stein before it can even touch the table. She takes a long drink, draining a third of the large glass. Caleb sips his then releases a sharp breath. He leans in a bit closer. “It seems there is something you need then? If you are hesitant to ask me for it, do not worry. I am your friend. I will do what I can, within reason of course.”

Yasha shakes her head, “No, not something from you exactly, except...I guess I could use some advice.”

“Ok, well that’s pretty easy, depending on the subject, of course.”

A soft grunt forms in Yasha’s throat and her cheeks start to turn pink. She’s starting to regret instigating this conversation but she really needs to talk to someone and Caleb was the one that said they needed to get out of their own heads. She chews on her bottom lip, “So, you, um, you had a girlfriend before, right? I just wanted to know, how did you, uh, do that?” 

Caleb nearly spits out his second sip of the ale, “Ah, ok, relationship advice. That is...a subject.”

Yasha frowns at his shift in demeanor, “I’m sorry. I’ll leave you alone.” She grabs her stein and starts to turn to stand up.

“Nonsense,” he puts his hand out to touch her arm just before it can move out of reach. “Stay, stay. I will do my best but I am not what one could call .. proficient.”

Yasha hasn’t been used to being touched gently or with affection for a long, long time, not since her wife. She’s reminded of the hug they shared recently and, even though it was stiff and somewhat awkward, it had been it’s own paragraph in the story of reconciling her old self with the new. A small part of her is beginning to feel deserving of affection, maybe even of love. This tiny gesture from Caleb brings more comfort than she was expecting and she feels the crack of a dam beginning to break.

“Thank you, Caleb. I know, but you are the one who said we needed to talk more, right?”

Caleb is never a fan of having his words brought back to him. Usually it’s a reminder of the persistent inability to take his own advice. But this time, he doesn’t mind so much. He laughs, “Yes, yes this is true. Ok, well I do not know if I can offer anything helpful, but I am listening.” 

Yasha crosses her arms and looks past him. Her words come slowly, “I think I'm just feeling out of my depth. With Zuala it was just...it was so different. We were young. Everyone else and everything around us was harsh, unkind, unforgiving but she was the opposite of that and so was I. We only had each other, we didn’t have any...um”

“Friends?” Caleb offers.

Yasha laughs lightly, “Yes, yeah. Or family? It was just us and it was easier to know, you know?” tinges of frustration seep into her voice.

Caleb nods in full agreement, “I do.” Yasha meets this with a contemplative silence. She unfolds her arms and takes another deep drink. Her hands stay on the stein and her thumb is soon tracing the lines of a design etched into the nearly empty glass. Either the ale, or the conversation is starting to make her feel dizzy. It’s probably both.

Caleb looks around to make sure none of the mighty nein are within earshot but still leans in and practically whispers, “We’re talking about Beau, then?” 

Yasha laughs and nods, “Yeah, sorry, yes.”

“And you want her to be your girlfriend?” Caleb is still keeping his voice quiet. 

Yasha’s face flushes again at the idea and the smile that spreads across it is infectious. Caleb catches it and beams a bit with the thought that Yasha regards him so highly as to share this sensitive information and seek this counsel. He catches the bartenders attention and gestures towards Yasha’s glass. They nod and begin to pour another one.

“Yeah, maybe, I don’t know.” Yasha stares into her glass of ale. She can see her reflection in the pale yellow surface and, with it, the slight hints of white creeping into the roots of her hair. “I feel like I’m such a different person than I was when I met Beau. And she’s different too. But she’s really amazing. Strong and loyal and so so smart, way smarter than me. And she seems like such an asshole but she’s so kind and gentle with people she cares about. She’s just beautiful.” Yasha slams the rest of the ale in one big gulp, fully trying to hide the embarrassment felt about the confession she just dumped on Caleb. The dam is quite destroyed, it seems. 

“Oh, you got it bad,” Caleb’s voice rumbles in a teasing manner. 

“That’s just it, I don’t got it.”

A waiter brings the fresh glass of ale and sets it on the table next to Yasha. She eyes it curiously for a moment, then realizes Caleb must have ordered it when she was lost in her tirade about how cool Beau is. She shakes her head then wraps her hand around the stein. The coolness of it soothes the heat of her blush just slightly.

“Well, my ex girlfriend may be possibly laying in ambush to murder me over a plate of schnitzel tomorrow evening, so you’ve definitely come to the right place.” His tone is a typical mix of melancholy and farce. 

Yasha winces, “Hah, yeah we’re a mess.” 

“The blind leading the blind, as they say.”

Yasha nods solemnly then lifts her glass, “Cheers to that, I guess.”

Caleb meets her glass with his and finally offers a laugh. He takes a sip then takes a deep breath. “Ok well, with me and Astrid, we were also young and we gave each other, uh, a small bit of comfort during a retrospectively terrible time. There was a simplicity in that. And I don’t want to dismiss what you and Zuala had, but maybe it was a little similar.”

Yasha’s brow furrows, taking in this idea. It had been easy to love Zuala, even under the threat of execution. It wasn’t just because she had been that beacon of light in a dark place but that was certainly a big part of it. “Maybe you’re right. My love for her was so deep. I mean, you know. It broke me when I lost her. But I’m coming to realize I need to just let it be what it was and it was ...beautiful and...it...well you can’t go back. But it will be with me always. Along with the regret and the anger.”

“Like that?” Caleb pointed to Yasha’s arm where the shifting, shimmering green lines of a floral design wrapped around runes spelling out her old moniker. Once a source of derision, it was now emblazoned on her pale skin as an effort toward reclamation. 

She smiles widely. Caleb gets it. “Yes, yes like this.”

Caleb shakes his head, “You know, I sometimes wonder what would have happened if we had been around people like the Nein earlier in our lives.” 

Yasha is still looking at the pattern on her arm. “Probably not cool tattoos like these.”

Caleb smiles, “It is very cool.”

Frumpkin begins weaving through Yasha’s legs and under the chair she’s sitting in. She instinctively reaches down to scratch his head. He gladly accepts the pets by aggressively bumping into her hand, even as she tries to pull it away. “Other than that, who knows?” Yasha coos at him then takes a large drink of the ale that she just remembered was sitting in front of her. 

Caleb watches this interaction, “You know, it’s not always a bad thing when someone demands your attention.”

Yasha is wiping a bit of ale from her chin as she thinks about all the times Beau has asked if she was watching while pummeling on some monster. She smirks, “...and she does. She definitely does.”

“So, I guess it is my turn to ask, do you love her?”

Yasha thinks for a moment then answers honestly, “You know, I’m not sure. For a long time, the idea of loving anyone other than Zuala in the way that I loved her felt like such a betrayal. But, in my dream about getting my wings, she told me to go. And that made me realize that she wouldn’t want me to drag her around with me like that. She would want me to be happy. She was a good person like that. Not assholes like us and our friends.” 

She looks up from her glass to find Caleb watching her intently. “I wish I could have met her.” 

“I wish you could have, too.” Yasha responds quietly. They share another toast and Yasha swallows hard then lean backs on her chair and crosses her arms. 

“Well, to answer your question completely then, I’m not sure if I do,” Yasha interrupts herself to take another look around for any members of the Might Nein. Seeing none she continues “- love Beau but I think maybe I could. I do like her very much, and I think she likes me too?” She looks for confirmation of this on Caleb’s face and is not disappointed. 

Caleb is remembering the moment at the bar in Rexxentrum when he definitely overheard Beau and Jester excitedly discussing this exact information, “Uh, well I may have overheard some things…” he notices excitement flash across Yasha’s face “ - but it is not my place.”

Yasha shoots him a narrow eyed look, “Hmm, you know I could beat it out of you, spell boy.” 

“You could, but you won’t, because we are friends.” Caleb’s words were beginning to slur and she wonders how many he had thrown back before she found him.

“Unfortunately,” Yasha notices her tongue is getting a little heavy as well. She shakes her head to clear it. “Anyway, I guess that’s the advice I’m looking for, if I should tell her how I feel, and how to do that?” 

Caleb has snapped Frumpkin back to his own lap and is stroking him from head to tail. “Such a soft boy,” he addresses the fey creature then turns back to Yasha. “Well, to answer your first question, I do remember someone who is sitting at this very table and isn’t me, saying that you never know how much time you have and that you shouldn’t leave things unsaid.”

Yasha has pulled her mug up again to drain more of the ale and decides to use it to hide her face a bit, “Yeah, I guess I am also bad at following my own advice.”

“And to answer your question, the second, just tell her all the things you told me earlier? Yeah. Easy peasey.”

Yasha frowns at this answer. It seems simple when you say it out loud but how could she say all those things directly to Beau. She can barely form a coherent sentence around her. 

Caleb sees this concern, “It will take courage, but -” he raises his glass to her “that’s why they call it liquid courage. Oh and speak of the devil.” His eyes look past Yasha, trying but failing to gain full focus of a blue outfitted, dark skinned woman walking their way, arms carrying a box full of brightly colored objects.

“Did you say something about a devil?” Beau approaches the table, arms full of fireworks and a wild look in her eye.


End file.
